Clockwork Legacy
by noahmagnem121
Summary: When her parents leave for Idris, Ash Herondale can't wait to get out in the city. But when she's visited by dreams from the past, and another teenager comes to stay at the Institute, no one knows if the peace will hold. Set after City of Heavenly Fire.


Chapter 1

The seraph blade twirled gracefully in Ash's hand as she spun around and sliced off one of the demon's writhing tentacles. She spun out of the way of its poisonous stinger and came back around to sink the blade, named Sandalphon, hilt deep into the demon's chest. It gave a final blood-curling roar, then dissolved back into its own dark dimension.

Ash Herondale smiled grimly and took a deep breath, imagining what her mother would say if she knew she'd been doing this - again. Her daughter's demon-killing antics drove Clary Herondale crazy, and it didn't help that she was egged on by her father. Jace had always encouraged her to work on and improve her already advanced skill with blades. Ash knew that her father saw himself in her, though they looked nothing alike.

She grabbed a spare rag off the floor of the Sanctuary and ran it down the seraph blade. When she turned the curved sword over, inspecting for damage, and found none, she whirled it in a circle and stuck it into the belt of her training shorts.

That had been a young _oni _demon that her father had captured for her on one of his missions, for times when both he and her mother were home and she wasn't allowed to go out demon-hunting. While her parents were away, which was often, she could go looking for demons whenever she wanted, but of course her mother would flip out if that happened while she was in the city. Her father understood her restlessness, and whenever he was able captured the essences of minor demons in the _calios_, a demon-holding device that would keep the demon down until it was opened. Then Ash would dispatch it in a matter of minutes.

She heard the doorbell of the Institute ring in the distance. She opened the heavy doors of the Sanctuary and then crossed the hall to the elevator doors. Once she was in the part of the Institute that actually looked like a church, she hauled open the front doors and saw a tall, slender man standing on the front steps, absently flicking his fingers and causing blue sparks to jump off his palms. Ash smiled. "Hey, Magnus."

"Hello, little Shadowhunter." He appraised her training gear and raised one eyebrow over a gold-green eye. "Having a little fun with some demons, were we?"

She shrugged, knowing Magnus would understand. "My parents are home."

"Which is precisely why I came. I need to speak with them. Where are they?"

"In the library. They're meeting with some people in Idris by Projection."

"And you didn't ask who?"

Ash shifted her feet. She hadn't really cared who her parents were meeting, only that their absence would give her a chance to practice for an hour or two before she had to pretend she hadn't been doing anything wrong. "I was, um, distracted."

"I bet you were. You might want to change before she comes out and notices that you have demon blood sizzling through your shorts."

Ash looked down and saw that there was indeed a thick greenish-black liquid burning a hole through her gear. She frowned. "Glad you caught that. It would have been pretty hard to explain to her what I was doing with demon blood on my clothes when there aren't supposed to be any in the house." she said as the two of them climbed into the lift.

"She'd have your father's gut for dinner if she found out," the warlock agreed cheerfully. He knew as well as Ash did that she was only able to fight demons this way because of her father, and without her mother's permission.

It was then she noticed the absence of someone who was usually by Magnus's side. "Hey, wait. Where's Alec?" Alec was, for lack of a better word, her uncle. He was Magnus' boyfriend and Ash rarely saw them apart. She supposed that made Magnus her uncle too, but the thought was too strange to contemplate. Ash had a large family, but not all of them were necessarily related to her.

"He's with Isabelle and Maryse. Something about council with the vampires," Magnus said, already climbing the stairs to the library.

"Right, I forgot about that. Okay, see you later."

"Farewell, little Jace!" The warlock gave a final wave before disappearing inside the library's heavy doors.

Ash rolled her eyes. That nickname had come up when she was three years old and Alec and Magnus were visiting the Institute. Her father had left his silver-handled hunting dagger lying around and she'd picked it up, slicing it through a depiction of a demon in Maryse's best tapestry. Alec, Jace and Magnus had roared with laughter while Clary hid her head in her hands.

"She's just like me already!" Jace had said, swinging her up onto his lap.

"Another Jace. How will I ever survive?" Clary had said through her fingers.

"She's right. The world doesn't need another, younger you, Jace. It can barely hold you as it is." Magnus had said.

Ash smiled to herself. She'd had that story recounted to her so many times she knew it all by heart.

She jogged up two sets of stairs to the very top floor, to the bedroom that had belonged to her aunt and now belonged to her. In Isabelle Lightwood's time, it had been so filled with makeup a person could barely breathe with all the powder dust floating around. Now, the room was stuffed so full to bursting with books - not to mention weapons - there was still barely any room to inhale. Ash nearly knocked over a stack of books on the way to her closet, and smiled. She loved reading, and on days when her parents weren't doing business she'd curl up in the library with Church and a good book. Not that the Institute really needed another library with all the books she had.

Since it was an unusually warm summer in New York, Ash donned army-print shorts and a dark purple tank top. They clashed horribly. She barely suppressed a sheepish laugh as she stared at herself in the full-length mirror, a remnant of Isabelle's days. Fashion never had been one of her strong points.

But she had never really cared what she wore, just so long as she always had one item with her. She looked around her book-infested room and found it in its usual perch on the nightstand: her Herondale family hunting dagger, a tenth birthday present from her father. It looked like his, with a silver hilt, a handle inlaid with tiny pieces of jade, and the initials AMH carved into it.

"Every Herondale has a dagger like this," Jace had said. "I'm assuming you'll find some creative uses for it. And now when you feel the sudden urge to rip a tapestry you won't have to use mine."

Ash stuck the blade into the knife loops she'd painstakingly sewn on one afternoon. That had not been a particularly pleasant day for her - or for anyone else in the house who'd heard her swearing - as a lot of her blood had ended up on the floor. She even thought she could still see the stain on the carpet - there it was. Alt, she reflected, could probably have done something a little more helpful than watch and laugh. That was what good parabatai were supposed to do.

She swung her dark hair up into a ponytail and skipped down the stairs, whistling softly to herself. She didn't notice until she reached the bottom that there was someone leaning against the wall, clearly waiting for her. A male someone, a little taller than her, examining his reflection and running a hand across his newly buzzed head.

Ash smirked at her parabatai and adoptive brother. "Nice hair."

Alt looked her up and down. "Nice outfit. The knife really completes the unfashionable demon-killer look."

She looked down at herself. "Touché. But I still think they cut it too short."

"Well, there's certainly more of a breeze than I'm used to," he agreed. "But it all completes my dashing look rather well."

Ash snorted. "Is that what they call it now?"

He aimed a swipe at her, which she easily ducked.

"Anyway, I came up here to tell you that Clary and Jace want both of us in the library."

"Did they say why?"

"Someone they want us to meet. But this is the only Projection they've ever introduced us to, so I'd assume something big is going on."

Ash pushed open the library doors and turned back to look at Alt. "Do you think it has something to do with the Accor - ack!"

Walking backwards into the library, she'd forgotten to look where she was going. Someone stood in front of her, a big man with dark hair and broad shoulders. But there was a faint bluish tinge about him, and he was slightly blurred around the edges. She'd walked right through the Projection she was supposed to meet.

"Oh. Sorry!" Her face was in flames.

Her mother, standing in the middle of the library, looked like she was trying to hold back a laugh. "Allan, this is our daughter, Ashale,"

Ash shot her mother a look. Clary knew very well she couldn't stand being addressed by her full name.

The man inclined his head to her, since they couldn't shake hands. "Allan Nightshade."

She nodded back to him. "It's nice to meet you."

"Likewise."

Jace came over to stand next to Clary, extending a hand toward the doors. "And this is our son, Altei." He introduced Alt with his full name as well, but Ash knew he didn't mind it as much as she did.

Alt came to stand next to Ash, and she could see Allan Nightshade silently assessing them. His eyes flicked from Clary and Jace back to the two of them, possibly wondering how they could possibly be related. Neither Ash nor Alt looked anything like their parents - understandable for Alt, since he wasn't technically related to them - but they did look a fair bit like each other. With the same brown hair and high, angular cheekbones, Ash and Alt could have passed for brother and sister.

"You still haven't told them why they need to go," a voice said, sounding irritated. Ash looked over and saw Magnus perched in one of the armchairs by the fireplace, looking bored.

"The Accords are due to be signed in three weeks. Since that incident between the young lycanthrope and the young vampire in Idris, tensions have been running high and we think that having the Herondales there will help. After all, it was you who brought us together last time." he added, addressing Clary.

Magnus let out an exaggerated sigh. "I'll rephrase that question. You still haven't told _me_ why _I _have to go."

Allan looked a little lost. Ash felt a stab of sympathy for him - it wasn't easy to deal with Magnus. "You were there for the battle at Brocelind Plain as well. The Council thinks that reminding the everyone of the way we worked together will ease the amount of hostility."

"That's smart of them." Ash couldn't tell whether or not he was being sarcastic. "Well, I needed a change of scenery anyway. I'll arrange for a Portal, tomorrow at eleven sharp."

"Tomorrow?" Clary said uncertainly. "Isn't that a little sudden?"

"No time like the present," Magnus and Jace said in unison, then grinned at each other.

"See you tomorrow," Jace said. "Tell Alec we said hi."

Magnus swept a mock bow and then disappeared in a flurry of blue sparks. _You know your life is weird when something like_ that_ is normal_, Ash thought.

Allan Nightshade turned back to her parents. "So I'll tell my family you agree?"

Clary looked a little undecided, but Jace answered firmly, "Of course. We'll meet you tomorrow." With a last nod, the Projection blurred and then vanished.

Clary turned to her husband. "Is this really a good idea? It's all happening so fast."

Jace gestured to Ash and Alt. "It's not as though they've never been on their own. They're responsible…enough." She shot her father a glare at the obvious hesitation. He grinned.

"But three weeks…"

"They'll have Lorne."

Lorne was Ash and Alt's tutor, who currently was making himself scarce. He hated talking to Projections, saying that it was always better to meet someone in person.

"So, we take it you're going to Idris."

Clary nodded reluctantly. "Apparently the Council needs the Lightwoods and the Herondales in Idris before the Accords are signed to help break the tension."

"A werewolf child and a young vampire got in a fight on vampire territory and the werewolf was nearly killed," Jace interjected. "Things haven't really been going well in Idris."

"So we gathered," Alt said. "Will the werewolf survive?"

Jace nodded gravely. "She'll be fine, but the attack hasn't helped the hostility levels. And that's not really what your mother is worrying about." The two of them exchanged a significant glance.

"Then what's the problem?" Ash asked.

"The Nightshades also need to be in Alicante," Jace said slowly. "Most of the New York Shadowhunter families are going. But the tutor they hired is a very influential leader, and he can't stay home to look after their child."

"So you offered to have the kid stay here," Alt guessed. "Until the Nightshades get back from Idris."

Clary nodded. "I don't know if he can really be called a "kid" anymore; he's sixteen. But what will happen if the three of you don't get along?"

"We'll ignore him," Ash assured her mother. Alt shot her a glance as if to say _that wasn't a good answer, smart one. _

Jace laughed. Clary glared.

"Really, Clary, we'll be fine. Lorne is here to settle any disputes, and we're not likely to have them anyway. Allan Nightshade seemed nice to me; his son will probably be the same." Alt said soothingly. The look he gave Ash meant clearly that he resented always cleaning up her messes.

They all three looked imploringly at Clary.

She gave a deep sigh and shrugged. "Well, when you put it that way…I guess I'd better get packing."

_Yes. _Ash celebrated silently. This meant demon-hunting.

"Okay. We've got preparations to make," Jace clapped his hands in the air above his head. "Alt, please go tell Katya she'll be cooking for four people the following month or so. Ash, please go find Lorne and tell him he'll be teaching three kids Latin, and not just you and Alt. And Clary…" He stopped as she raised her eyebrows at him. "Do whatever you want and be happy."

"That's what I thought you were going to say."

Alt nodded and slipped through the doors, off in search of the Institute's chef. Ash was about to scan the library's aisles for her tutor when she realized she'd forgotten to ask something.

"The boy's name. What is it?"

"Tacelir," her mother answered. "Allan pronounced it _tas-_eh-leer. An old Shadowhunter name."

Ash considered this, shrugged, and went to go find Lorne.

She found him, as she'd predicted, in the last row of shelves, in the window seat with a book on his lap. His lanky frame was curled so his knees rested over the side of the seat, making him look younger than his twenty-five years. Glasses were perched, slightly askew, on his nose, and wildly curly blond hair stuck out in all directions. Though he was young, Lorne Cartwright had her parent's full confidence. Her father had liked him on sight, saying he looked like a younger version of the tutor he'd had when he was their age.

"Has the Projection disappeared?" he asked without looking up from his book. Tilting her head, Ash saw the title: _The Shadowhunter's Codex._

"Why are you reading that again? We've all got it memorized by now." she asked.

"One can never be sure until one has made sure. And I really would have thought your habit of answering a question with a question would worn itself out by now."

Ash grinned. "Sorry. Mom and Dad want you to know that they're going to Idris, and that the Nightshade kid is staying here until they get back."

"Tacelir?"

"That's his name," Ash said, surprised. "How'd you know it?"

Lorne shrugged. "His tutor taught me for a few years. We keep in touch. I assume that means I'll be teaching three?"

"You got it."

Lorne heaved a huge sigh. "Well, it's not like having another kid around could damage your already nonexistent attention levels. What have I got to lose?"

"Why do you always assume Alt and I don't pay attention?"

"See, there you go again with the question habit. And I assume you don't pay attention because most of the time, you don't."

Even Ash had to admit there was no disputing that one. "I'll tell them you're okay with it, then."

Lorne's attention had gone back to his book. "Fine, fine. He sounds like he'll be a nice kid."

It took Ash a moment to remember that he was talking about Tacelir. _Wow, _she thought. _I really _don't _pay attention._

She slipped out the library doors and met Alt in the hallway. "Katya was not impressed that we invited someone else to stay," he told her.

"That's Katya for you," she answered. "She'll hate his guts until he compliments her cooking. Then she'll love him forever."

"That sounds about right," Alt said. "What's the dude's name? I never asked."

"Tacelir."

He raised his eyebrows. "That's an even older name than Ashale."

Ash only grunted in agreement. Normally, when she met other Shadowhunters, that was the first thing they said to her. It wasn't annoying, exactly, but it did get rather tiring after a while. So she insisted that everyone just call her Ash, a name left over from when she was too young to pronounce her full name.

"I wonder what he'll be like," Alt mused. "It would sort of suck if he turned out to be a jerk,"

"Yeah. Then we'd have to put up with him for three whole weeks."

Her parabatai shrugged. "That's true. I think he'll be okay, though. I meant what I said about his father being nice."

Ash studied him. He sounded sincere, and it was clear he already thought a lot of Allan Nightshade, despite having met him only briefly. Alt was a very good judge of character; he had a gift for people. It was one of the things Ash had always envied him for.

"You're the authority on that stuff, not me," she said, and he grinned. "You be the judge, and I'll kill the demons."

Alt rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say. What time are Clary and Jace leaving tomorrow?"

"Eleven. Which means we've got to be up before ten to convince them that we're responsible kids who can get out of bed on time."

He gave her a look of pure horror. "Before ten? Isn't that a little extreme?"

"You are the laziest Shadowhunter I've ever met."

"That doesn't change the fact that any hour before noon is too early for me."

Sadly, he was right. It had been years since he'd been up at a reasonable hour for anything but the most dire demon-distress calls. On normal days, he rarely got up before twelve o'clock.

Ash opened her mouth wide in a yawn. "Wow, I'm tired. It's been a long day."

"Of fighting demons in secret?"

"You know me," she grinned. "I think I'll head up early. See you in the morning."

"Don't sleep with the knife on." he reminded her as they bumped fists. The rings on the same finger of both their hands made a small noise as they collided.

"I only did that once." she protested. He laughed and disappeared down the hall, probably to his own room. She turned and trudged up the stairs to her own room, the witchlight flaring brightly when she entered. Then she slid the knife from the loops and tucked it under her pillow, the way she always had.

Ash changed into a more comfortable T-shirt and shorts to pass as pajamas, then settled herself on the floor in front of the huge mirror, pushing aside a pile of books in order to sit down. She took a hairbrush off of the dresser and proceeded to run it through her tangled brown hair, a few shades darker than Alt's. It was somewhere between curly and straight, which meant that the only word that described it perfectly was unruly.

The windows were always open in her room, and the outside dusk combined with the witchlight cast an almost eerie myriad of darkness and light across Ash's face. Her dark eyes looked huge and unreal in the half-shadows.

Ash's eyes had always been a mystery to her family. To her parent's knowledge, none of the Herondales or Morgensterns had ever had blue eyes like hers. The eyes blinking out of her face were a clear, unusual dark blue that Magnus had once described as "eyes like the night sky in Hell." He'd given her a secret smile as he said it, and Ash still wasn't sure she liked the description.

She stopped brushing her hair when her reflection in the mirror started to swim in front of her. Blinking a few times to clear her vision, she put the hairbrush down and got up off the floor. After dimming the witchlight with her hands, she twisted the Herondale ring off the first finger on her left hand and set it on the nightstand. Sliding into bed, she fell asleep almost immediately and gave no more thought to the events of the day or the events of tomorrow.


End file.
